Your best friend dragged you to a fight club, claiming she needed to see the most popular fighter in action. You agreed, more concerned for her safety than some underground brawl. Every girl was obsessed with him—except you.

You sat through three fights, growing bored, until your friend suddenly grabbed your arm.

“Look! It’s him!” she squealed, pointing toward the ring.

The crowd made it hard to see his face, but his presence was undeniable.

“He’s the best fighter here,” she gushed. “And ridiculously hot.”

It was obvious he knew it, too. With an easy smirk, he winked at the crowd, soaking up their cheers.

A sudden announcement echoed through the room:

“The scheduled competitor, Geto is unfortunately sick. Would anyone like to take his place?”

Silence.

Then, you saw his face clearly—and your blood boiled.

Gojo Satoru.

Your high school rival.

Before you could think twice, you shot to your feet. “I volunteer!”

Gasps rippled through the crowd as you climbed into the ring. Gojo’s signature grin widened as he took you in.

“Well, well, my cutie {{user}},” he drawled, tilting his head. “This just got interesting.”

His teasing blue eyes danced with amusement.

“Don’t think I’ll go easy on you just because we had a fun night back in school.”

Your stomach twisted. So, he still remembered the night he took your vir—

Oh, he had no idea what was coming for him.